


Little Plastic Woman (Part II)

by erintoknow



Series: Aria-Rough Drafts [23]
Category: Fallen Hero Series - Malin Rydén, Fallen Hero: Rebirth (Video Game)
Genre: Depression, F/F, POV Female Character, POV Second Person, Trans Character, Trans Female Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-29
Updated: 2019-06-29
Packaged: 2020-05-29 14:00:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19401772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erintoknow/pseuds/erintoknow
Summary: You know you're heading down the wrong path, but you can't stop.





	Little Plastic Woman (Part II)

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally a singular work split across three time frames, but as I've changed my approach to this series from being just a collection to more of a cohesive narrative, I was no longer sure where exactly to sit this one.  
> So, we're breaking this up into three, one for each part. This is the original entry that had all three parts.
> 
> ([Part I](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20714501) | [Part III](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20714552))

**Your Debut:**

You stomp through the the open double-doors. You are doing this. This is really happening. You’re going to trash the exhibit and the Rangers alike. You aren’t going to be a victim anymore. No more nightmares, no more running, no more living every moment in fear. You are the one in control now. 

Time to jump.

It’s hard to breathe, like a bad smog day, pushing through the fear and panicked thoughts as you scan the reception room. The Rat King curls around you, chittering in rhythm with the song running through your head. …Is it learning to mimic your own mental wall? It doesn’t matter. It’s just as much a tool as you are. Whatever makes it happy.

Kick over the punch table. A woman screams, clinging to her date as red stains her white ballgown. Everyone backs away from you.

They’re scared.

Scared of you.

It’s exhilarating.

It’s terrifying.

You hate that you love this.

You take a breath, bracing yourself. You’ve got to get these people out of here. Before something happens– before _you_ happen to them. You reach and the Rat King reaches with you, swooping up scattered panicking thoughts into a cacophony, you hold the notes and stretch them to silence. “Out!” You encompass the room with an arm and then thrust a finger at the open door, adding a mental push to your command. One by one by twos by threes, the reception hall empties out, little twangs of fear and panic going ‘sproing’ under your grip.

You don’t let go, don’t take a breath, until the room is almost empty. Finally. Now you can get to work. On your way out of the reception you make a point to kick the cake over. Bits of frosting stick to the sole of your boot.

You can sense a few stragglers scattered through the building. As long as they don’t get in your way, you don’t need to worry about them. The exhibit hall is easy to find. It wasn’t even half an hour ago you were here as Jane. Talking with Ortega. About you.

No. Stop it. Don’t get distracted.

The real goal here is wiping out yourself, but you can’t give the game away before it even starts. And anyway, this hall is grotesque. A monument to the dead. Just let them rest already. What ones that aren’t dead in body are dead in soul.

You don’t want to think about which one you are.

No! Stop it! Don’t get distracted.

If being Ariadne and Jane visiting the same place is disorienting, tracing Jane’s steps now, inside your new skin feels like something else entirely. Liberating. Giving yourself permission. Break the glass, kick over dioramas. Send out the Nanovores to swallow mannequins whole. Bend the plaques, tear down the signs.

Sidestep is the last one you touch. You know it’s just a mannequin under the mask but you feel like she’s judging you. For proving everyone right. For proving how wild and dangerous and terrible your kind are. She can’t understand, not yet. It doesn’t matter that she would be right. Everything you are is a crime to them, they would have never let you be.

It doesn’t matter what Ariadne Becker would have thought, she’s dead. You’re just the ghost come to collect her due.

You grab Sidestep off her stand, holding her up by the neck and squeezing until the head pops off and rolls away. The Nanovores take care of the rest.

_Whatever it takes to get your revenge; whatever it takes to make the nightmares stop._ You’re going straight to hell anyway, might as well drag the rest of them down screaming with you.


End file.
